


The Promise

by flazy2



Series: Shameless One Shots [2]
Category: Shameless (US)
Genre: Angst, Feelings, Hospitalization, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Protective!Ian, Worried Boyfriend, but not too bad, hurt!mickey, sick
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-12-02
Updated: 2014-12-02
Packaged: 2018-02-27 22:36:34
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,202
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2709209
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/flazy2/pseuds/flazy2
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Mickey is in the hospital and Ian is having a hard time dealing with it.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Promise

He’s working on dinner when he gets the call. Mickey had been staying late at work the past few days, Yev’s birthday was coming up and they’d been trying to save a little extra to throw him a great party. He wipes his hand on a paper towel and picks up his phone from where it’s laying on the counter, he looks at the screen but doesn’t recognize the number. 

“Hello?” he says into the phone. 

“Hello, I’m looking for a Mr. Ian Gallagher?” The woman says, robotically.

“This is him,” he replies. 

“Mr. Gallagher, my name is Annabelle Greene and I’m calling from Mercy General Hospital. We have a Mr. Milkovich that was admitted an hour ago and he listed you as his emergency contact.” 

Ian can feel the room spinning, he sets his free hand on the counter to steady himself. “Is he okay? What- what’s wrong with him?” 

“I apologize Mr. Gallagher, but I am unable to divulge that information over the phone.” She rattles off some more details about their privacy policy and the hospital. She asks him if he knows where it is located, and he gives a few murmurs in acknowledgement, unable to focus on what she is saying. All thoughts solely fixated on the fact that Mickey is in _the hospital_ , he has to be okay, he just has to, there is no other option. 

He hangs up the phone and shuts off the stove, not bothering to put anything away. He puts on his coat and jogs to the closest L station to take him to the hospital. 

  


* * *

  


Ian stands in Mickey’s hospital room listening to the doctor explain how Mickey had suffered a pretty severe asthma attack, most likely caused by copious amount of smoking combined with a sedentary lifestyle. The doctor says they're going to keep him for a bit longer to do some breathing test to see if he'll need any sort of medication to help with any future attacks.

The doctor exits the room, leaving the two men alone. It isn't a private room, but there aren't any other patients in the room so it's functioning as one now. 

Ian turns to Mickey who's laying in the hospital bed, “So, how are you feeling?” he asks with a smile. 

“Uh, fine?” Mickey replies with a note of confusion in his voice. He expects Ian to be a sobbing mess, unable to form coherent words or something, but he's not. 

“Good, good.” He walks over to stand beside Mickey's head and starts fluffing his pillows, pushing and prodding them into shape. “I’m gonna see if I can get you another pillow or something, these ones are really flat. They're probably bad for your back.” 

Mickey reaches to grab Ian's arm, “Hey, you okay?” he asks his boyfriend. 

“Yep!” Ian replies, he finishes with the pillows and walks over to the foot of the bed, feeling the blankets on the bed. “Maybe another blanket too.” 

Okay, Ian's acting weird, and he wants to get to the bottom of it before the other man suffocates him in an abudance of pillows and blankets. “Fuck Gallagher, I don’t want a fucking blanket.” He says angrily. “What the hell is wrong with you?” 

“Nothing, just trying to make you comfortable.” He replies in confusion, cocking his head to the side, as if Mickey was speaking an entirely different language. 

Mickey sighs, he is not in the mood for this shit. All he wants to do is grab a cigarette from the pocket in his coat. He is itching for a smoke. “You think I can smoke in here?” he asks the redhead. 

“Nope, you’re quitting.” Ian says calmly, picking at the imaginary cotton fluffs on the blanket. 

“The fuck? Says who?” Mickey replies angrily. “You ain’t my keeper.” 

Ian clenches his jaw, staring daggers at the other man. “No, you are never doing this to me again. Ever.” 

“I-“ Mickey starts before Ian cuts him off. 

“Listen, asshole, you have no idea how fucking scared I was when some lady called and told me that you, _my boyfriend_ , was in the hospital." Ian shakes his head angrily.

"So, here's what you’re going to do; in a couple of hours when the doctor says it's okay for you to go home, we're going to leave and then you're going to quit smoking, I don’t care what it takes, but you are never picking up another cigarette again," he said strictly.

"I'm going to make sure you get better so you can lead a long and healthy life with me; you're going to grow _old_ with me, Mickey. You’re going to watch your son grow up and get married, and then you're going to be there when his wife pops out a bunch of babies and you're going to babysit them all the fucking time." A fond smile appears on the man's face, "And you're going to watch those little brats grow up and you're going to spoil the shit out of them." 

Mickey sees the way the other man's eyes get glassy as he tries holding back tears, "Then one day, a long, long time into the future, when we're both old and gray and we've been together our entire lives", he pauses to wipe a tear from his eyes, " _I_ get to go first, Mickey. _I’m_ going first." 

Mickey feels his own eyes grow wet with emotion. 

Ian looks at him, his eyes puffy, nose red and irritated. "Promise me,” his voice breaks,” I need you to promise me that you'll let me go first," he says more firmly.

Mickey nods slowly, feeling the tears from his eyes make their way down his cheeks. "I promise." 

"Good." Ian says softly, using his arm to wipe at his face. He turns his attention back to the blankets covering the smaller man’s lower half, using his hands to smooth out the wrinkles. "Now if you’ll excuse me, I'm going to see if I can find a fucking nurse to bring you another pillow, okay?" 

"Okay," Mickey says quietly, watching the redhead exit the room, leaving the door cracked a few inches behind him. 

He wipes his own face with the back of his hand; he takes a deep breath and thinks about the words the other man said, he knows how much of a bitch it will be to quit smoking. He'd tried it before, years ago, back when Ian had quit. Mickey had only made it a few days before cracking. Ian still didn't hesitate to make fun of him for it. 

At the time he hadn't seen it as such a big deal, but now, thinking about the words the Ian had said, the more he found himself wanting it, all of it. Ian, Yev, the hypothetical grandchildren, years and years of the two of them together. He can feel his stomach knotting up at the thought of how much he _wants_ that.

It will be difficult, but he can do it, Ian will help, he knows it. 

He'll do it for himself, for Yev, and for Ian.

_Especially_ for Ian. 

Because there isn't a single thing in his life he wouldn't do for him.

**Author's Note:**

> Also check out my other fic [The Broken Boyfriend](http://archiveofourown.org/works/2720411) which is an opposite take of this situation(where Ian is hurt)


End file.
